


October

by TeekiJane



Series: A Year Apart [3]
Category: Baby-Sitters Club - Ann M. Martin
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-21
Updated: 2014-05-08
Packaged: 2018-01-16 12:31:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 19,343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1347538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TeekiJane/pseuds/TeekiJane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's more to life than studying, but Adam's got to figure out how to balance everything he's looking for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The F Word

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> College is completely awesome. College classes, maybe not so much.

To: ladiezman47  
From: byronp86  
Subject: re: re: you’ll never guess what I did this weekend  
Glad to hear you’re still alive. I worry about you sometimes.  
Things are going okay for me here, although I’m not as fond of my classes as I thought I would be. I’ve made some good friends. My friend Jossie wants to know if you’re single and want to come by to say hi to her. She says she’s gorgeous and charming and smart. She’s actually standing behind me while I’m writing this and she’s forcing me. I’m not kidding. She’s nearly got me at gunpoint.  
The two of us and her roommate almost went to a frat party but we ended up getting questioned by the cops. Not my finest moment, but I think I handled it okay.  
Stay in touch or Jordan and I will come to Ohio with pitchforks, and you will NOT like it if we have to do that.  
Byron

Byron’s little snippet about going to a frat party made me laugh, mostly because it was so pathetic and so him. He thought he had college all sewn up, sitting on a couch with a couple of girls. If you thought about it, it was the same exact thing he’d done all through high school. This girl he mentioned, Jossie, sounded like Haley version 2.0 (right down to the wanting to date his brother bit). 

I, on the other hand, was bound and determined not to be the same guy I’d been in high school. I mean, I like myself okay. I have decent self-esteem, if you know what I mean. But while I liked certain parts of myself, there were a few things I wanted to change. 

Starting with my batting average…and I don’t mean like Jordan, who actually still plays baseball. I’d dated quite a few girls through the years. I’d touched my first boob when I was eleven. But I’d lagged behind a lot of my other guy friends after that. Jordan beat me to third base by a long shot, and, other than my brothers, I was the last one of my friends to lose my virginity. And you couldn’t really count my brothers. Byron hadn’t even touched a dick until this summer, and Jordan…well, I’m just convinced Jordan got a sex change somewhere in the past year and never told me about it. 

I was tired of being the runner up. 

Here, I was starting over fresh in so many different ways. I could pick and choose what to tell people. Hell, if I wanted, I could even lie straight into their faces. I’d started with my roommate Colin, who turned out to be an okay guy, if bland. He and Byron actually would have gotten along pretty well. The two of them are the type who do their homework early, and in Colin’s case, go to bed early. I’d told Colin I came from a big family, but I’d never mentioned being a triplet. I don’t know why. I think I just didn’t want to be paired with my brothers—or compared to them—for the first time in my life. 

This is the exact opposite of what I’d expected when I left for school. I was afraid of losing my identity when I wasn’t Adam Pike, triplet, anymore. But by the time October rolled around, I had a better identity: Adam Pike, member, Kappa Lambda Nu. 

Okay, so I was technically still just a pledge. They like to drag out the initiation phase until the end of October, so they could haze us a little bit. Not dangerous hazing like fraternities used to do back in the day; that was not allowed on campus. But they still made us do stuff like call our big brothers ‘sir’ and ‘big brother’ and go around with awful nicknames. I had spent the past six weeks answering to ‘Little Brother Tree Twig’ because I was the smallest and skinniest pledge. 

There are some things you can’t escape, no matter how much you may want to. 

Anyway, after Byron told me the whole story about his near-miss opportunity at actually doing something fun for a change, I realized that the Kapps—which is what everyone calls Kappa Lambda Nu—were actually pretty smart about a lot of things. First, we never advertised our parties. In order to get in, you had to be personally invited by a member or pledge, and each one of us was only allowed to invite so many people. This assured that our parties never got as large or as raucous as the one at Duke. 

We also arranged designated drivers for everyone, or, failing that, made sure that they had a bed in the house to sleep in. A couple of the other fraternities on campus had been warned for letting members and guests drive drunk. Since SADD—Students Against Drunk Driving—was one of our ongoing service projects, the Kapps definitely didn’t want to get caught up in any of that. 

The only exception to the invitation rule was the members of our sister sorority, Epsilon Epsilon Epsilon. The Trip-Eps were definitely the prettiest girls on campus—and some of the smartest, too. They had a blanket invitation to all of our coed events. Their president was a short girl who gave out tall vibes, if you know what I mean. There are just some women who always exude confidence and who, when you think back on them, seem larger in your mind than they really were, and this girl was definitely one of them. She gave her name as Petty Andrews, and after she’d addressed our pledge class, I’d gotten up the courage to flirt with her, even though she was a junior and, you know, the president of the sorority. I figured I didn’t have a shot with her, but maybe she could introduce me to some girls who were a little more in my league. 

I introduced myself, both by name and by nickname, however reluctantly. Petty had smiled indulgently when she’d heard my nickname. “Tree Twig?” she repeated. 

I fought a grimace. “Total misnomer,” I said, waving that away. The few other girls who’d heard that name had made similar faces and assumed that it referred to…well, you get the picture. “But while we’re on the subject of names, I wanted to ask you about yours. It’s rather unusual, isn’t it? Is it short for something?” 

Petty wrinkled up her nose and tossed her brown curls over her shoulder. “Wouldn’t you like to know,” she said. 

“Oh, come on,” I said, giving her a tiny shove with two fingers, “No one names their daughter Petty unless she has an older sister named Grand Mal or something.” 

Petty actually laughed. “Now _that_ ,” she said, “is one I haven’t heard before.” She looked over her shoulder at her sorority sisters, as if she was concerned that they might see the two of us talking. “Look, Pike,” she said sternly, poking me just below the shoulder blade with one elegantly manicured finger, “I’ve threatened murder on men who’ve asked about my name before. And you’re just a Kapp scrub at this point.” She smiled that original smile again. “Just a Tree Twig.” 

“Oh, ha ha,” I growled. 

“All I’m saying is, learn your place. Don’t go asking the big kids questions when you’re still playing in the sandbox.” She pointed to where my fellow pledges were gathered on the other side of the room around boxes of pizza. 

I joined the others, grabbing a slice of pizza and having a chat with Little Brothers Froggy and Retriever. But I couldn’t stop staring at Petty Andrews. I was hooked. 

*** 

That had been back in late August or early September. October had reared its ugly head on campus. I came home from my Wednesday afternoon classes and plopped down at my desk. I set aside several pieces of unfinished statistics homework and a couple petrified pizza crusts and found the computer keyboard. I opened my school email and read through a couple of vaguely threatening notes from my accounting teacher before I found what I was looking for: the date and time of the Trip-Ep mixer this weekend. I mentally filed that information away for a third or fourth time and then took a look at one of my unfinished homework assignments. Yuck. Not only was it due two weeks ago, but it was also less than half done and covered in some anonymous food substance. From what I could see, most of the answers were wrong also. I’ve always been pretty good with numbers, and it’s not like I didn’t get the concepts. Maybe I’d been working on that one when I was little drunk? I wasn’t sure. 

In any case, I didn’t exactly want to start over again, and from what I could see, there were crumbs and globs of food on nearly every assignment. When had I turned into such a pig? Rather than actually starting the assignments right off the bat, I put them aside. I needed a few more minutes of relaxing before I could get a handle on that. I pulled up my personal email, and that’s where I found Byron’s little letter. 

I hadn’t been using my personal email for school use at all. First of all, my old screen name was kind of embarrassing. I’d picked it out when I was fourteen, for Christ’s sake. And I’d realized that real ladies’ men don’t go around telling everyone that they’re ladies’ men. If you have to say it, then you aren’t. 

Second, my brothers were having such a great time at school and were doing great, and making the email they used one I didn’t use much meant I didn’t have to read about it quite as often. Byron was acing everything (there’s a shocker) and Jordan, to his great surprise, was pulling As in most of his classes. He had all these crazy ideas on what he wanted to major in, but he couldn’t decide on any one thing. Byron kept talking about how he hated his classes, but he kept chugging along anyway. 

How was I supposed to tell them that I was thiiiiiiis close to academic probation? 

After I finished Byron’s email—which I didn’t reply to; I didn’t have anything to say that wouldn’t have offended him—I kept reading. There was a note from Mom, wanting to know who was going to be home for Thanksgiving; I sent a noncommittal reply. I’d be home for Thanksgiving if a) I could find a ride and b) I didn’t get a better offer elsewhere. Below that was one from Jordan that made me chuckle—and not because he’d sent me a joke or anything. 

Jordan was getting antsy. 

I counted down through my email box. Number of letters he’d sent me since I went to school? Eleven. Number of times I’d responded? You got it. Zero. 

I wasn’t doing much better with Byron, who’d managed to get a whopping two responses out of me all year. As I already established, Byron hadn’t changed one bit since he left. His idea of a good weekend? Play a game with his little girlfriends, get all his homework done and maybe read a book. That wasn’t any different from this time last year, I think. He spent most of his time at Haley’s, so for all I know they could have been smoking crack in her basement. But I suspect they were really just watching movies and talking bullshit. 

But Jordan and I had always gone for the same kind of things. At least, that’s what I’d thought. We’d hang out with ‘the guys,’ grab a pizza. If someone’s parents were away, there might be a party. Robby’s parents never really minded if we drank at their house when they were home even, so the summer before senior year, we spent a lot of time there, drinking beer. Scott could occasionally score some pot from some guy he knew. Sometimes it would just be the guys; other times, dates were welcomed. 

Jordan’s emails showed me that his life off at college wasn’t really like that. He’d made friends with his roommate and a couple of other guys, but they weren’t like our old friends. His tales of his weekend exploits sounded like they could have been Byron’s. He had connections—older members of the baseball team who must have known where the parties were or could have at least bought him some drinks. Instead, it almost sounded like Jordan and his friends were sitting around, drinking tea and eating crumpets. 

This email I had here and the last one before it weren’t about his awesome life, though. They were full of threats. Death threats. Ones that made Byron’s comment about pitchforks look tame. This new email, the one that had made me laugh, included some very impossible ways that he intended to kill me if I didn’t answer him. He wasn’t doing this to be funny; I was pissing him off. I knew that because in a two paragraph email, he’d used some variation of the word ‘fuck’ no fewer than sixteen times. A fondness for cursing is something all my brothers and I have in common, but when Jordan starts cursing indiscriminately, he’s mad as hell. 

Well, let him be. I was off living my life, flirting with pretty girls and attending parties. He was off living his, playing poker for pretzels like we had on spring break and pining for a frigid girl who was still in high school. 

I hit the reply button on Jordan’s email and wrote two sentences: “You want a reply? Here’s a reply!” I hit send and then kind of regretted it. I knew that was going to push Jordan’s buttons even more, but then I decided I didn’t care. You didn’t see Mal going around, writing all of us emails all the time when _she_ was off at school. 

Now, I was the one riled up. I closed the browser and picked up some of my statistics homework. Where was my textbook? I found it under a pile of dirty clothes, both mine and Colin’s. That was one thing we _did_ have in common—apparently, neither one of us minded living in a room that should be condemned. 

I put my homework aside and instead spent the afternoon cleaning up our dorm room. I threw away garbage, washed dishes and did laundry. I even ran down the hall and borrowed a vacuum from one of the neatfreak kids. By the time I headed out to dinner and a Kapp pledge meeting, everything was finished—except my homework and reading. 

*** 

I actually sat down the next afternoon and got caught up in statistics. Assignment after assignment, hurriedly answered and set aside. I figured if I could get caught up in one class each day for a week or so, then I’d only be about a week behind. 

After that, I opened my English textbook for pretty much the first time all semester. We were supposed to be working on a research paper all semester long. I’d technically kept up with the assignments; we had to turn in a topic, an abstract and some references so far. I’d chosen an acceptable topic, and a pertinent one too: alcohol abuse in fraternities. It had been easy enough to find articles about _that_. But I hadn’t actually read any of the articles and I had to turn in an outline for tomorrow’s class. This composition class was the only one I had so far that I’d managed to keep up with the assignments; I was pulling a high B. I couldn’t let that drop into the crapper with my other classes. 

I was actually reading the boring statistics about how many college kids get alcohol poisoning versus how many Greek members get alcohol poisoning when the phone rang. I squinted at the clock; I had no plans for the evening, so no one could be calling to tell me I was late…again. But Colin’s mom called him every night at about 7, even when he told her he wouldn’t be in. It was only 6, but maybe her internal clock was off. 

But no, the phone was for me. “Adam?” the voice on the other end said. 

The voice was familiar but I couldn’t place it. “Yesssss?” 

“It’s Noah.” That didn’t help. Noah? I didn’t know any Noah. There was a pause as I tried to remember where I might know a Noah from. “Big Brother Chicken Scratch?” 

Ah. Yeah. Chicken Scratch was a junior Kapp. He was supposed to be _my_ big brother and keep an eye on me. So far, that meant that he’d bought alcohol for me when it was my turn to pay and had shown me a couple of new drinking games. 

“Sorry,” I said after a minute. “I guess I’m just not used to hearing your voice over the phone. Usually, I see you in person, beer in one hand, cigarette in the other.” 

He snickered a bit at that. “You free for dinner some night this week? They’re making all of us big brothers check in on our little brothers.” 

Something about the way he said that made me wary. “Um, sure. What night?” 

“How about tonight?” He took an audible drag on his cigarette. Like a lot of the Kapps, he was a chain smoker. 

“Tonight’s okay, but I’m working on something for comp class. Can we meet in about an hour?” 

He sounded inexplicably pleased. “That’s great. Which caf were you thinking?” 

We hashed out a few details and I turned back to my ‘outline.’ So far, I planned to explain the causes of drinking, the effects of drinking and the solution to the problem. (I didn’t happen to think that it actually _was_ a problem but I had a feeling my professor would disagree with me.) Those were my bold headings, but I couldn’t figure out how to subdivide. 

Great. I was passing a whopping one class and I couldn’t even bullshit my way through a simple fucking outline. 

Fifty minutes later, I had read through most of my research and I almost had a halfway decent outline. I breathed a sigh of relief when I looked at the clock and realized it was time to head to dinner. Chicken Scratch was waiting outside the cafeteria door, taking one last drag on a cigarette. “Pike, good timing,” he said as he stubbed his butt out on the side of the building and then flicked it aside. If it had been one of my high school friends, I’d have chewed him out for littering, but this wasn’t the time or the place. “I’m starved. Let’s grab some chow.” 

We staked out a table and went through the lines. Chicken Scratch piled his plate with something that I think was supposed to be lo mein, and I grabbed a couple pieces of pizza. We sat down and started eating before he started talking. “How’re your classes going?” he asked. 

I shrugged. “They’re fine.” I hadn’t told anyone I was bombing out. Why would I tell some random brother I didn’t know who’d been assigned to keep me in line? 

The dude looked twitchy without his cigarettes. “That’s not what I hear.” I put down my pizza and narrowed my eyes at him. Obviously he knew something about my academic downfall, so why did he bother asking in the first place? My change in facial expression made him even more fidgety. “Look, the house gets a copy of progress reports when they’re sent home. You were the only pledge to get them.” 

You only got a progress report if you were pulling less than a C in any class. They were sent to your home address, for some reason, but addressed to you. Mom and Dad weren’t paying for me to go to college, so I didn’t think they really deserved to hear how my grades were, unless I decided to tell them. “Oh,” I said to Chicken Scratch. I picked up my pizza and stuffed it in my mouth, letting him know I didn’t really have anything to say on the subject. 

“Look, Adam,” he said with uncharacteristic empathy, “I get where you are right now. I’ve _been_ there. I came to school, I spent a lot of time with the brothers. I got some nasty grades my freshman year, too.” I looked at him out of the corner of my eye as I pretended to be fascinated by the straw in my milk. “There’s a couple things you got to remember here. First, you are paying a fortune to come to this school, and your school work needs to come first as much as possible. Second, and this goes with the first, there’s nothing wrong with having a good time, getting wasted, getting some girls—but there has to be balance. You won’t be here next year if you don’t pass this year.” 

He was talking sense, even if I didn’t want to tell _him_ that. “Let me tell you my secret to success,” he said after he realized I wasn’t going to reply. “I set aside blocks that are just for school work—nothing is allowed to interfere with that. I put those blocks when it’s convenient for me, working around classes, my brothers and the girls. Anything I can’t get done in those blocks I do on the weekend, but I find some balance. If there’s something Friday night, I get a good night’s sleep Saturday and then do my work Sunday. And if Saturday’s events are more interesting, then I make sure everything is done before I go.” 

I put my pizza down. “I’ve kinda started doing that,” I told him, admitting something I didn’t even want to say. “That’s pretty much what I was doing when you called.” I had grabbed some broccoli with my pizza—my mom would have been _so_ proud of me. I picked up my fork and played with the broccoli. Now I saw why I hadn’t eaten any before. It was nasty. “The problem is, it took me a while to figure that out, and now I’m way behind in my classes.” 

Noah nodded. “I can see how that would happen. Here’s what I suggest: figure out which teachers will let you turn in old homework and which ones won’t. Don’t even bother doing a back assignment in those classes; just do everything you can to get good grades in what you can turn in and hope for the best. What class are you having the most trouble with?” 

“All of them,” I admitted. Chicken Scratch laughed. “I just got caught up in statistics and I’m okay in English.” I thought about it. “My bio teacher doesn’t take back assignments and they’re not worth much, so I should probably just focus on the future in that class.” He nodded. “And my intro to business class is just attendance and tests, so I just need to study better in that one.” 

“So what does that leave?” 

“Accounting.” 

“Ahh,” he said knowingly. “And who’s your teacher for accounting?” 

“Crabtree.” 

“Ahh,” he repeated. He’d inhaled the entire plate of lo mein and was working on dinky little cup of pudding. “The only teacher on campus who lives up to her name.” 

I smiled at that. “She’s really not that awful. She doesn’t even take points off if you don’t turn your work in on time.” 

“Yeah,” Noah agreed, “but she keeps on your ass until you do get it turned in.” Wasn’t that the truth? “Look, do you know Meiner? He’s one of the other pledges but I can’t remember his name. Big glasses, smoker’s voice?” 

Smoker’s voice? Wasn’t that the pot calling the kettle black? “Froggy,” I told him. “His pledge name is Froggy.” 

“Oh, right, like the guy from _The Little Rascals_ ,” he mused for a moment. “Anyway, the dude’s like a human calculator. He was helping Stockton with his homework, and Stockton’s a senior. You should see if the two of you can get together. I think Froggy’s an accounting major, so he could probably help you out here and there.” 

The two of us finished our meals and headed out. “Look, Pike, I know you’re going to be just fine. The Kapps have a good sense for guys. We picked you and I know you’ll pull through.” Noah pulled out his cigarettes and lighter and took a drag. 

I watched him smoke for a moment before I answered him. “Sometimes, it just takes me a little while to catch up to everyone else,” I said, not just talking about my school work. Noah left his butt dangling from his mouth as he zipped his jacket. “Didn’t anyone ever tell you that those things will kill you?” 

He pulled the cigarette out of his mouth and laughed, the chuckle quickly turning into an asthmatic sounding cough. “Now,” he said when he caught his breath, “You really sound like a little brother.” He thumped me on the back. 

*** 

The next day was Friday, and I sat down to get to work on my accounting. The Trip-Ep mixer was Saturday and I figured that, even if he was a dumbass, I might as well actually try Noah’s way of doing things. Maybe I couldn’t get completely caught up in one day, but I could get somewhere. I’d already contacted Meiner, who was a pretty good guy. The two of us and another pledge were going to start a study group for our accounting homework. 

I was actually not doing too badly; I had four or five assignments done by six thirty when I decided to take a break and grab some dinner. It was definitely a pizza night, if I had to spend it alone in my room with my accounting book for my date. 

The pizza arrived shortly before seven and I had just crammed a slice into my mouth when the phone rang. I wondered briefly if it might be Colin’s mom, even though Colin had gone home for the weekend. But once again, the phone was for me. 

“Hello?” 

“Adam?” This time, I knew exactly who was on the other end of the phone, and it almost made me choke on my pizza. “What the fuck is the matter with you?” Jordan continued when I didn’t reply. “Until you emailed your smartass fucking reply to me yesterday, I was beginning to think you were dead or something.” 

I swallowed the pizza and washed it down with a swig of cola. “Well, hello to you, too, Jordan,” I said sarcastically. 

There was a pause. I was waiting for Jordan to go off, but instead he lowered his voice. “Look, Adam, is everything okay there? You practically begged me to keep in touch with you. And yet, here we are. I’ve been at school for eight weeks and I’ve heard from you a whopping once.” 

“Who are you?” I asked, irritated. “My keeper?” Jordan didn’t answer. “Did it ever occur to you that maybe I was so busy having an awesome life that writing you emails was the last thing on my mind?” 

Jordan chuckled disbelievingly. “Dammit, Adam, you are so full of shit. Will you shut the fuck up with the sarcasm for a moment? Why don’t you just tell me what the problem is?” 

“Right,” I said, upping the sarcasm instead of turning it off. “I’m sure I’ll do that now, since you told me to.” 

“Last time I checked,” Jordan said, “I was still your brother. And since I am forty seconds older than you are, respect your elder and listen to me.” I crammed another piece of pizza into my mouth because I knew there was no getting out of hearing whatever he was going to say. Unless I hung up on him, which was tempting. “Look, I know that it can be hard to adjust to change. And I also know that you’re a stubborn son of a bitch. So when you didn’t reply to my emails at first, I just accepted that. But when two weeks went by and still no word from you, I began to wonder. I had to hear from _Byron_ that you were pledging a fraternity. And when a month went by and you still had nothing to say, I realized that something was off.” He took a deep audible breath. “I’m not going to beat my head against a wall here. But for the most part, we’ve always told each other everything. I want to help you out, the way you would help me if I were having a problem.” 

“I’m not doing too well in my classes.” That just slipped out, but then I rolled with it. Jordan was still mad at me for keeping things from him this summer, and I had to admit he was right. I’d want to help him if he were in my spot. “As in, right now, I’m passing roughly one of them.” 

“Okay,” Jordan said after a moment’s pause. “That sucks. Anything I can do for you?” 

I chuckled. “Like what? Do my homework for me? Give me a hug and tell me it’ll all be okay?” 

I expected more flak from Jordan for my ongoing sarcasm, but now that I’d actually talked to him, he didn’t seem to mind it so much. “Dumbass,” he said affectionately. “I could give you a Dad-style pep talk.” 

I wasn’t sure what he meant exactly. “And what is that?” 

“Oh, you remember when I got a D in science in seventh grade because I was spending more time acting like an idiot than paying attention?” 

I suddenly did remember. “Oh yeah. Dad got ahold of your report card, smacked you on the back of the head with it and yelled…” 

The two of us finished together. “Try harder!” 

We were both laughing by then, but Jordan sobered up first. “Seriously, though, Adam, is everything going to be alright?” 

“Yeah, I think so. I’ve got a plan. I’ll probably pass most of my classes, but I don’t know how good my grades are going to be. I’m starting to pull it together, though. As my fraternity big brother said, I just need to find balance.” 

Jordan perked up. “And how is fraternity life? I thought about rushing, but decided I couldn’t afford it.” 

I was a little surprised by that. Jordan had made his life at school sound amazing, and now he almost sounded like he regretted not going for the Greek life. Maybe both he and Byron were only sharing the good bits of their lives and not the regrets and restlessness. I suddenly felt a lot better. “It’s awesome, although I’m still working my way in with the girls. They’re all really nice and pretty, but super cliquey. I think it will be easier when I’m not a pledge anymore and don’t have to introduce myself by my pledge name.” 

“What is your pledge name?” 

I grimaced. “Tree Twig.” 

He laughed so hard I pulled the phone away from my ear. “Yeah,” he said after a moment, “I can see how that wouldn’t win you any girls.” 

“It doesn’t refer to that,” I said dryly. “I’m just shorter than everyone else. Most of these guys have not seen me naked.” 

I’d given him an easy bait, but Jordan ignored it. “So you guys have a lot of parties? Dave and I went to a frat party last weekend, but we didn’t know anyone and we realized we could have drunk beer in the dorms and talked to each other without all the cigarette smoke and drunken girls hitting on us.” 

I laughed a bit. Maybe Jordan wasn’t just sitting at home with his tea and crumpets after all. “Send some of those drunken girls my way,” I joked. Jordan didn’t reply, so I went on. “Our parties are on the small side, which is nice because you actually know people. You don’t end up just talking to yourself.” 

“Kinda like the baseball team’s poker parties,” Jordan mused. “I mentioned them in one of my emails, but I’m not sure you’re actually reading those. Whoever’s free gets together on Friday nights and plays poker. Usually, there’s a couple cases of beer and we play for as long as the players and the money hold out.” 

“Wait,” I said. “You guys are actually playing poker for money?” There went my image of him gambling for snack food. 

“Yup. Usually nickels, which isn’t too bad. I usually come up pretty even. I don’t let myself lose more than two dollars a night. I’m trying to save up some money to get Haley out here for spring break.” 

I ignored the fact that he was trying to fly his girlfriend out to Florida to visit him. “I was worried about you a bit, you know,” I told him. 

“Oh, really? Why?” 

“I thought you’d gone soft on me. Your emails—which I did read, even if I didn’t reply to them—made it sound like you’d stopped knowing how to have fun. You went and pulled a Byron on me.” 

Jordan paused. “Pulled a Byron?” he asked, confused. 

“You know,” I repeated. “You told me your grades were higher than you expected. It sounded like you were spending most of your time with the same couple people, hanging out, being a homebody. Like Byron.” 

He laughed for a moment. “This might sound stupid,” Jordan said, “but I never really liked the big parties our friends used to throw. Don’t get me wrong, I liked the guys we hung out with. But although I like to drink, I really hate hanging out with people who are so drunk and high they don’t act like themselves anymore.” 

“Wow.” I was surprised. Those were some of my favorite times—letting off steam, acting like an idiot with the guys. “If you didn’t like them, why’d you come?” 

“It was high school. There’s only one rule: do as your friends do.” That sounded about right. “What I’m saying, Adam, is that if preferring to hang out in my dorm room with a couple of guys means I’m soft, I guess I’ve always been soft.” 

I thought back to a couple of parties where I’d been having a blast and Jordan had practically been tugging my shirtsleeve, begging to go home. I’d always thought that the two of us were practically the same, but I guess Jordan had just kind of been playing follow the leader. “Honestly, dude, I should have known that,” I told him in my best smartass manner. “I mean, how quickly did Haley manage to neuter you? This shouldn’t surprise me in the slightest.” 

I wasn’t sure if Jordan was going to laugh or get mad at that statement. He’s got a sense of humor, but he’s also got an extremely short fuse when it comes to Haley jokes. He sighed, and I knew that he knew I was kidding but that I was going to get a serious answer anyway. “Haley didn’t neuter me,” he said quietly. “She just gave me a chance to be the real me for the first time.” 

“Anyway,” I said, desperate to change the subject, “I will keep you updated. I’ll let you know when my grades are back in the positive. I’ll also make sure you know when I finally get into a girl’s pants, okay?” 

Jordan relaxed a little bit and chuckled. “Oh, I definitely need to know about that one. Especially since I’m neutered and won’t be doing that myself anytime soon.” I relaxed myself. There was that sense of humor. “Adam. Do you need me to help you out in that respect? Send you a care package?” 

“Care package?” 

“Oh, you know. Some romantic CDs to get the girls in the mood. Sexy man-panties. Lube.” He was laughing again. “And a really big box of condoms. Extra small, tree-twig sized of course.” 

And in that moment, I wished so much we were sharing a bedroom again. “Damn you, Jordan.” 

He heard exactly what I didn’t say. “I miss you, too.”


	2. A Story About a Girl

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I finally get my wish--but it's not quite what I expected.

Ladiezman47: so I see its your team versus mine for the als championship.  
Ct_yankee_fan_00: yup  
Ladiezman47: want to make a bet?  
Ct_yankee_fan_00: no way dude. I can’t take your money.  
Ladiezman47: youre hilarious. its the sox’s year. I can feel it.  
Ct_yankee_fan_00: if the red sox win this series, I will buy a princess crown and have dave take my picture while I’m wearing it. I will post it as my myfriends photo for a whole month. okay?

The Saturday in October after the weather turned really cold, I woke up for the first time with a girl in my bed with me. 

Part of me wanted to cheer. I mean, it had taken me eight weeks to get a girl into that bed in the first place. But the other part of me was a little freaked out. 

I had absolutely no idea who this girl was. 

She was cute—short, with delicate features and dark blonde hair. She was lying on her side next to the wall, hogging my bed pillow, smiling a little bit in her sleep. I wouldn’t have minded sharing a bed with her on a regular basis. But I had no memory of who she was or how she had come to be in my dorm room. Had we met at the Kapp house? That last thing I could remember from the night before was hanging out in the common room there. Retriever—probably my best friend at school—had broken open a bottle of tequila. We hadn’t been having a party; there had just been probably half a dozen guys and an equal number of girls, sitting around chatting. And drinking. 

The girl shifted in her sleep and I’d realized I’d seen her before. If she wasn’t a Trip-Ep pledge, then she was friends with a bunch of them. The weekend before, I’d seen her down three shots in a row. The girl could seriously hold her liquor. 

My concerns shifted from trying to identify her to figuring out what to do next. This—waking up in bed next to someone you didn’t recognize—wasn’t something they covered in school or in etiquette books (not that I’d read any, anyway). Would she expect a relationship after this? On a more mundane level, was I supposed to serve her breakfast ? We didn’t really have any breakfast foods in the room. My idea of a good breakfast was an energy drink on the way to class, while Colin ate in the cafeteria every morning. 

Colin. There was another thought. I squinted at my bedside alarm clock through sleepy eyes. Nine-forty-two. Colin’s usually up by eight every morning. He was probably out at the library or wherever he went when he wasn’t home. I wondered, vaguely, if he knew who the girl was. 

I went back to trying to remember what happened the night before. I had a vague recollection of kissing a girl, but not the one in my bed. What the hell had gone on at the Kapp house last night? 

I rolled out of bed completely naked and tucked my blankets around the girl. Our mutual state of undress and a used condom in my trash can confirmed my suspicions that we’d had sex. That was one question answered. That only left several hundred. 

I pulled on some jeans and my shirt from yesterday from the pile of clothes on the floor. Sufficiently dressed to navigate the halls, I headed to the bathroom. When I came back, the girl hadn’t moved one inch. I contemplated heading back to take a shower, but I didn’t want her coming to alone in my room—at least partly because I wasn’t sure she wouldn’t rob me blind. 

I removed my clothing from the mess on the floor and tossed it into my hamper. I wasn’t a natural born clean freak like Byron, but I was getting there. The girl’s jacket fell from the pile I made of her clothes and something tumbled from her pocket. I picked it up, intending to shove it back where it came from. It turned out to be a lanyard with her keys and wallet attached. Before I put it back, I flipped the wallet over and looked at the student ID. I got her name: Ann Bradford. 

That was right. Annie. I remembered her introducing herself earlier, long before the tequila. But she definitely hadn’t told me her last name. So why did the name Bradford sound so familiar? 

No time to worry about that right now, honestly. I grabbed my phone and sat down in the hallway outside my door, closing it tight behind me. I dialed Retriever’s dorm room, hoping he was home and awake. There doesn’t seem to be a type of alcohol he can’t drink and survive, although he swears everyone has that one type of drink that they _shouldn’t_ drink. I guess tequila was mine. 

He answered on the first ring, which told me he was already moving for the day. “Archer?” I said, greeting him by his last name. 

“That you, Pike?” His mouth was full. “Damn,” he continued after he swallowed, “I’m surprised you’re up this early. How many shots did you take last night?” 

I sighed. “I don’t know. I kinda blacked out there for a while.” He laughed. “Actually, I’m more concerned with something else right now. Those girls we were drinking with last night? Were they all Trip-Ep pledges?” 

“Most of ‘em,” he replied lazily. “Why?” 

“Do you know most of those girls personally?” 

“How personally?” 

“Enough to know their names?” He was irritating me. My head was throbbing and I hadn't taken anything for it yet, so maybe that was the real source of my irritation. “I don’t care whether you’ve fucked them or not.” 

“Oh, I probably have,” he said with a laugh. I waited for an answer to my question. “Yeah, I think so. Which girl are we talking about?” 

“Annie Bradford?” 

“Oh, yeah, Annie. She’s definitely a Trip-Ep girl, but I haven’t touched her. She’s Bradford’s little sister, you know.” 

An absolute chill ran through me. Ryan Bradford—Big Brother Oregano—was the Kapp’s president. I could only imagine what he would think if this got out. I’ve got three younger sisters of my own, and I know I wouldn’t be thrilled to discover some guy had…accidentally…drunkenly slept with one of them. I was picturing a beating, complete with broken ribs and nose. “Uh oh,” I said quietly to myself. 

Archer must not have heard me. “Anyway, why do you even ask? Thinking about asking her out?” 

I didn’t see any point in keeping anything from _him_. “Umm…I kinda took her home last night.” 

“Kinda?” Archer repeated dubiously. “Define kinda.” 

“Oh, okay,” I admitted. “Not really kinda. I mean, she’s still in my bed.” 

“Finally,” Archer said with a laugh. “That took you long enough.” 

“Andy,” I said in a hiss. He sobered up, knowing that I was serious. “She’s Bradford’s little sister! How many levels of dead will I be when he finds out?” 

“Simple solution, there, Pike,” Archer said. “Don’t tell him.” 

“What if _she_ tells him?” 

He laughed. “Adam, you’ve got a little sister, right? Would she tell you if she drunkenly hooked up with a guy?” 

I thought about that for a minute. Vanessa had told my brothers and me about her having sex with her now-ex-boyfriend during spring break last year, but she wasn’t exactly the sorority girl type. That was more a Margo thing, and I couldn’t picture her voluntarily telling me who she was doing. (Byron, maybe. But not me.) 

On the other hand, I could picture Claire someday sharing waaaaaay too much detail of her sex life, just to get a rise out of me. I shivered. “You’re right. Most of them probably wouldn’t.” 

“Most of them? How many sisters do you have?” I didn’t answer that. “Anyway, Pike, just don’t buy yourself trouble. For all you know, that girl could have slept with half the pledge class.” 

He was right about that, but it was also possible that I was her first…and that was just a responsibility I neither wanted nor needed. “Just one last thing before I let you go. Am I supposed to feed her or anything when she wakes up?” 

Archer just laughed. “You are priceless,” he said. “Good luck.” 

With that, he hung up, leaving me with just as many unanswered questions as I’d had before I spoke to him. I went back inside. Annie was still asleep, but she’d spread out across my whole bed now. I stood there watching her, feeling panic rise back up in my throat. What was I going to do now? 

I sat down at the computer and logged into instant messenger. I had a lot of friends on there, but most of them were either logged off or had away messages. Only one person was available. I gave it a moment’s thought and then sent him a message, even though I wasn’t sure what kind of response he’d give. “Byron?” I typed. 

He didn’t reply right away and began to think that maybe he wasn’t online. Finally he answered. “Sorry, Julio and I were arguing about how to organize our DVDs. Fight of the century.” He followed this by a smiley face to let me know he was kidding. “Surprised you’re up this early.” 

I looked at the clock; it was hovering around 10 am. It wasn’t _that_ early, even for a Saturday, but I assumed he thought that there’d been a party last night. I hurriedly typed a reply. “Yeah well i got shocked awake. What r *u* doing up?” I wouldn’t call myself an early bird by any means, but if anything, Byron was worse. 

“Took an early morning jog,” he replied. 

“Early morning?” 

I could picture him laughing as he replied. “Early for me. 8:30.” 

I didn’t have much to say about that. “Oh.” 

There was a short pause before he replied. “Everything okay, Adam?” 

I guess asking him about his sleep habits on IM was kinda out of character for me. He obviously knew I was after something. “I need some advice.” 

Byron’s reply was almost instantaneous. “ooooooooh boy.” I read that a couple times over before I replied. I couldn’t read the emotion behind that, but he hadn’t even taken time to capitalize it—something he’s generally obsessive about—so I knew he was reacting to my request. I didn’t send a real reply, just a couple question marks. He typed for a moment before he responded. “Well, the last time you came to me for advice, you thought you were going to end up changing diapers. So I guessed it had to be something big. I was just preparing myself.” 

I guess I couldn’t fault him for that. The last time I’d asked him for his opinion, I’d been getting ready to go with Tiffany for her abortion. Not for the first time, I made a mental note to send her an email and find out how things were going for her. “Oh yeah,” I typed. 

“So…?” he asked. 

“So theres a girl in my bed.” 

It can be hard to read sarcasm across IM, but Byron’s never been subtle with his. “And you think this is something I can help with?” 

I sighed. “Wait. I have specific questions and you might be able to help me with those.” 

“Well, that makes it completely different then, doesn’t it?” The sarcasm was still thick. “Just don’t ask me about positions or anything like that. I don’t own a copy of the Kama Sutra.” 

That definitely deserved the eye roll I gave it. “Shut up n pay attention,” I wrote. He didn’t reply; I guess he’d decided to shut up. “So i dont know this girl or remember how she got into my bed in the first place.” 

He decided to actually try to be helpful. “Okay. Obviously, I’ve never been there, but I’ll do my best. What’s your question?” 

I thought a lot about what I wanted to ask and how to phrase it. “Um, so what do i say when she wakes up? Do i thank her? Do i need to offer her breakfast? What do i do if she thinks this means we’re together?” 

There was a pause and then Byron just typed “…” I wondered what the hell that meant as a much longer pause followed. Finally, the messenger indicated he was typing again. “Okay, I just conferenced with Julio,” he replied. 

I couldn’t believe he’d done that. I was imagining the conversation: ‘Hey, Julio, my brother just had his first one night stand. What’s the straight guy perspective on this?’ I responded as indignantly as I knew how, with bold and italic red font. “WHAT?” 

Obviously, my contempt was as clear as Byron’s sarcasm. “I didn’t tell him who was asking,” he replied immediately. I relaxed, but only a little. “I kinda put it as a hypothetical, but I’m sure he knew someone was actually asking. He said he’s never been in that spot either, but he has opinions. We both think you should follow her lead unless she’s just totally wrong about something.” 

I scratched my head, both literally and figuratively. “And what does that mean?” 

He typed and typed. I think he backtracked and erased much of what he’d written. Finally, I got an answer. “If she says she’s hungry, offer her food or offer to go to the cafeteria with her. If she doesn’t bring it up, then you don’t have to worry. If she’s totally embarrassed by things, make it easy for her to escape. Julio says you don’t have to thank her but if you had a good time, you should let her know.” 

I couldn’t remember if I’d had a good time or not; that was half the problem. “And i think i know what you meant by the other bit. If she thinks this is the start of a relationship, i just set her straight.” 

“Yeah,” he replied. “That sounds about right.” 

I turned to look at the girl in my bed once again, then back to the computer. “So what did u get up to last night?” 

“Nothing compared to what you got up to,” he replied. I didn’t respond to that; I was cursing him inside my head when he posted again. “I wrote a paper and then went out for burritos. Just another boring Friday night.” 

We were still talking back and forth when I heard a rustling in my bed. I looked over and saw Annie sit up, wrapping the comforter from my bed around herself. I swallowed nervously and quickly bashed out a final reply to Byron. “shes awake gotta go talk to u later.” I closed the instant messenger before giving him a chance to reply. 

Annie blinked her eyes a bunch of times. She rubbed her face with one hand and then used it to push her hair out of her face. She was using the other hand to hold the comforter shut. I turned around in my chair, watching her warily, waiting to see what she was going to do. I couldn’t believe it, but I was actually going to take the advice of Byron’s roommate. 

Annie looked around the room and just seeing me and no one else, slid off the bed. “Where’re my clothes?” she asked slowly, sleep evident in her voice. 

I’d made a pile on the chair that sat between the two beds and had shoved her shoes underneath. I didn’t actually reply; I just pointed. Somehow, I expected her to have some semblance of modesty as she got dressed—to try to hide behind the comforter until she had her clothes on—but that wasn’t even close. She dropped my comforter on the floor, not caring if I watched her or not. At first, I was completely freaked out as I watched her shimmy into a black lace thong and matching bra. But as she took her camisole and shook it the right way out, I realized she didn’t really have any reason to be bashful about me seeing her naked. I still didn’t remember most of what had happened the night before, but I did know that I’d touched most of those parts she was covering up now. 

She slid a tight sweater over the cami and grabbed her jeans. While she untangled them, I waited for her to say something. And waited. And waited. I didn’t realize I was staring at her until she finally pulled her pants up and zipped them up. “What’s a matter?” she asked, almost self-consciously. Her voice was lower than I remembered. “Is it my hair?” 

I shook my head. Her hair looked surprisingly good considering what she’d done since she’d last styled it. She started searching around for her socks and I decided I was going to go ahead and try to get a few answers to some of my questions. “Annie…” I began. 

She looked up at me quizzically as she slid on one sock. “Yes…um…” She looked briefly embarrassed. “What was your name again?” 

I almost laughed; she broke a lot of the tension. “I’m Adam. I’m guessing you don’t remember much of what happened last night, either?” 

Annie looked thoughtful. “Some of it. Why?” 

“Oh, I was just kind of wondering about a few things. Nothing important.” 

She pulled on her sneakers and tied them up. “Is this going to be all awkward now, Adam?” she asked, looking at me as her fingers worked the bows without looking at them. “Please don’t make this awkward.” 

I breathed a sigh of relief. “No, no. I just wanted to make sure I wasn’t too much of an ass while I was drunk last night.” 

“No more than you normally are,” she replied. I saw a hint of a grin in the corners of her mouth. Either she remembered more about me than I did about her, or that was a standard line of hers. “Look, I’m guessing based upon a comment you made last night that you don’t do this too often. I’m just going to be blunt and come to the point: you weren’t a virgin before this, were you?” 

She had me wondering what the hell I’d said, but I knew she wasn’t about to tell me. I watched her try to straighten out her hair a little. “Nope. I just…” She stopped and watched me again, serious this time. I wasn’t about to tell her that I’d only had sex with one other girl and that this was only the sixth time I’d done it…and I didn’t even remember what we’d done. “I just haven’t had much luck since I came off to school. It’s been a while. I might have been rusty.” 

Annie didn’t even try to hide the grin this time. “Actually, you weren’t bad. I just wanted to make sure you weren’t a virgin. They’re so…clingy.” She leaned into the mirror and inspected her makeup. I don’t know what exactly she was wearing, but it had managed to stay on all night with only minor smearing. Amazing. “Listen, if you ever get into a slump and you’re not having any luck with the girls, you can call me. I’d be willing to do this again as long as you don’t start thinking we’re a…thing. Just sex, right?” 

I was almost amazed. I didn’t know there were girls like this out there. All the girls I’d come across in high school wanted you to take them on dates, be their boyfriends, give them gifts. And then, maybe, if you were lucky, you could get some action. 

But then, I was also kind of wary. I definitely wasn’t looking for a girlfriend right now. I was eighteen and not ready to settle down. Besides, relationships take far too much time and effort. But the idea of meeting up with a girl once in a while, just for a roll in the hay…wasn’t that bound to lead to trouble? Relationship-type troubles? I have a tendency towards jealousy on occasion. I’m not sure how I’d feel if I saw her across the room at a party, making out with another guy, knowing that we’d be hooking up again in a couple weeks. “I’ll keep that in mind,” was all I replied. 

She smiled a knowing little smile. “If you want, I can help you out a bit with the other girls,” she suggested as she grabbed her jacket. “I can start up a rumor that you were a great lay. It will at least get the other girls looking your way.” 

I actually laughed. “Well, I began as she pulled her keys out of her pocket, getting ready to leave. “Don’t lie for me. But if you’ve got something nice to say, feel free to pass it on. I won’t pass up free advertising.” 

Annie smiled. “Look, this goes against every instinct I have. I generally don’t tell guys how they did; it gives them a big head. But everything you lacked in experience—and yeah, I could tell you were sorta new at this, so don’t try to deny it—you made up for in other ways.” 

I stared at her, wishing I weren’t blushing. “Other ways?” 

She didn’t explain; instead she pinched my cheek with her finger. “You’re cute when you blush,” she said. That really didn’t help things. “Here,” Annie added, handing me a piece of paper. “I live up on the sixth floor in this building. Maybe, with a little more experience, you’ll be exactly what all the girls are looking for. Let me know if you need any help with that.” She gave me a quick kiss on the cheek, right where she’d pinched me a moment before, and then she left. 

I wasn’t sure what to think about Annie after that. On one hand, she hadn’t followed through on my fears. In fact, she seemed to worry about the same things with me that I had worried about with her. But she also seemed to be a bit of a mixed message—those last few sentences were more indicative of someone who wanted a little more from me than she indicated. 

I opened the paper. It was her name and dorm room number and phone. She’d even kissed the paper while wearing lipstick. When had she written that? It just added to my concerns about her. I wasn’t sure what I was going to do about Annie, but I had figured out one thing. 

Girls sure were weird. 

*** 

Id finally managed to kick the headache I’d been suffering with all morning at about one in the afternoon, so I decided to try to get some homework done. I’d almost caught up in accounting class, and my grade on my last test was surprisingly good. I figured I was going to come out with a decent grade in three or so of my classes. I was hoping that the other two classes would fall in line; the grades had slowly been creeping up and I had a shot of getting solid Cs by the end of the semester. 

I was trying to help myself in that respect by getting my biology work done for my Tuesday class when the door opened. I didn’t even look up as Colin came in. I figured he was laden down with books and getting ready to settle into his desk and read. But he slammed his books down on his desk. I could feel him glaring at me. Colin wasn’t the type to get upset over every little thing, so I knew he was really irritated if he wanted to make a scene. I finally put my bio book down and turned around to look at him. “Can I help you?” 

Colin is tall—nearly six and a half feet—and has sandy hair and watery brown eyes. Usually, he’s a fairly expressionless and hard to read. It hasn’t been much of problem before, because he’s basically been straightforward in his communication, and I’ve just always done what he wanted, because it was never too outrageous. (Sometimes, that’s the easiest way to get along with someone under forced circumstances.) Turn off the light; use headphones; quit moving his stuff. But this was different. He stood in front of his desk, his brow still furrowed and his fists clenched. There was no need for him to explain his emotions now. He took a deep breath and then spoke, but the anger hadn’t gone out of his voice. “Why in the hell did you think it would be alright to bring a girl back here while I was sleeping in the other bed?” he began. “That was totally not okay. It was the most awkward thing ever.” 

I widened my eyes. Colin generally had a hard time falling asleep at night—hence the necessity of the lights off and no music. But once he was out, he could sleep through everything. I generally waited until he started snoring and then turned the television or music back on. I couldn’t actually remember the thought process behind deciding to come back to our room instead of Annie’s, but I had a feeling the fact that he was such a solid sleeper was part of it. “I’m sorry, man,” I said, realizing that there was no way I was going to get out of having to say that. I mean, I could only imagine how I’d feel if he brought a girl here and I had to listen to them. “I know it’s not an excuse, but I was really, really drunk.” 

“So you’re suggesting,” Colin said, still clearly irritated, “that if you were drunk, that should excuse all your behavior? Let me know how that works for you when you’re arrested for driving under the influence.” 

I sighed. He was right. “No, I’m not. I made a mistake and it won’t happen again.” 

He sat down in his chair, but I still felt like I was craning my neck to look at him. “I always tell you when I’m not going to be home. I don’t care what you do when I’m not here—within reason.” I could imagine all too well what he considered ‘without reason.’ “Look, I respect your study blocks, don’t I? Even that Saturday night that you were holed up in here studying for your business midterm because you had plans Friday and Sunday. You never see me bringing my girlfriend back here while you’re in the room, do you?” 

Sometimes, people surprise the shit out of you. That made twice in one day when someone had done that. “You’ve got a girlfriend?” I asked him, probably not as nicely as I should have. 

Despite that, Colin chuckled. “Yeah, I do. And judging from the conversation I overheard last night, I’m getting a whole lot more than you are.” 

“Yeah, you probably are,” I admitted, which just made him laugh some more. “Why don’t I know this?” 

“Probably,” he said, turning back to his computer, “because we’ve never really had a conversation.” 

He was right about that. In the past, he’d given me dictates and I’d followed them, and I’d mostly tried to stay out of his hair. I’d then grumbled—mostly to myself, but occasionally to Archer or one of my brothers—about how unfriendly he was. But I’d never tried to start a conversation with him myself. “Maybe we should do something about that,” I suggested. 

Colin raised his eyebrows. “Like what?” 

“Like have dinner together one night soon and talk. We can try to hash some things out. I’d like to meet your girlfriend sometime, and I’m completely cool if you bring her by while I’m home.” 

He looked amazed. “I thought I’d annoy you if I brought her around. I feel like I get on your nerves a lot.” 

I shrugged. “Sometimes you do. But obviously, sometimes I get on your nerves also. Maybe if we just talked about stuff more?” 

Colin turned around in his seat. “Yeah, that’s probably for the best. But obviously, not right now. You’re working on your homework and I don’t want to interrupt that.” 

I grinned at him. “Thanks for respecting that.” 

By the time I’d finished my assignment, he’d left to meet his girlfriend for dinner. I had no plans for the evening and I figured it was be a good time to shake down Archer for the dinner he owed me. He didn’t answer the phone, however, so I sat down at the computer and checked my email. I saw one from Byron and opened it right away, knowing it was about the day’s events. 

To: ladiezman47  
From: byronp86  
Subject: THERE’S A GIRL IN MY BED!  
So……?  
How did it go? 

I chuckled and shot off a reply. 

To: byronp86  
From: ladiezman47  
Subject: Re: THERE’S A GIRL IN MY BED!  
Wouldnt you like to know?  
Oh wait you werent talking about the sex. Never mind.  
Turns out shes pretty cool. I think things are going to go better for me now, in more ways than one.  
Your idiot brother, Adam


	3. A Petty Problem

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ah, Petty...you're making my life hard already.

to: ct_yankees_fan_00; superjeff15; byronp86  
from: ladiez_man47  
subject: SOX ALL THE WAY  
TOLD YOU GUYS! NEVER DOUBT ME AGAIN!  
\--Adam  
P.S. Jeff and Byron, make sure you tell Jordan how lovely he looks in his princess crown on myfriends.

I loved Halloween when I was a kid. There’s always been something amazing about getting to be someone else for the evening and being given permission to run around town shouting and begging for candy. I haven’t been trick or treating since I was twelve but my teen years had brought a new era in Halloween celebrations. We—Robby, Scott, Jordan and I—had spent a lot of time pulling pranks, toilet papering houses and going to haunted houses. 

I don’t know what I was expecting for my first Halloween on campus. I was past the stage of wanting to egg houses or cover trees in TP. Among the list of possibilities, I never imagined the Trip-Ep “safe sex” costume party. Despite that, I definitely planned to attend. The costume choices were endless—and hilarious. 

Colin and I had been getting along better ever since what he’d come to call “Annie-gate.” As soon as I’d learned about the party, I’d told him about it as part of an effort the two of us were making to improve communication. For some reason, he got really into the idea of helping me decide upon a costume. We’d put up a whiteboard inside our room where we’d agreed to write up our schedules and messages for one another. I’d come home from class and find a new costume suggestion every time. 

For her part, Annie had become an occasional visitor to our room, although I think she knew I wasn’t planning to take her up on her offer to be, as she put it once, “fuck buddies.” She’d just become another one of the guys; I honestly felt like I could call her my first female friend. Colin got along with her as well. She’d found a way of teasing him that endeared her to him and he became more talkative and less bossy when she was around. She also managed to draw Colin’s girlfriend Caitlin out of her shell. Annie was pretty much the only person other than Colin to get Caitlin talking. 

And it was a good thing, too, because I’m pretty sure Caitlin was the one who came up with the idea of me going to the party as a used condom. 

Colin blanched at the suggestion. “That’s totally disgusting,” he proclaimed, looking at her sideways. The two of them were sitting side by side on his bed, leaning against the wall, and he had his arm around Caitlin, who was pretty despite her mousy hair and thick glasses. 

“That’s why it’s perfect,” Annie interjected. She was sitting on the floor in front of my bed, digging through her bag. The two of us were supposed to meet Meiner and two other friends at Avanti’s in a few minutes for dinner and a study session. “Adam’ll fit right in that way. You should hear what some of my friends are dressing up as,” she added. 

“What about you?” I teased. “What kind of gross costume will _you_ be wearing?” 

Annie smiled smugly. “I will be going as a vestal virgin, in a flowing white gown. After all, the only safe sex is no sex, right?”

“Yeah,” I piped up. “And isn’t the whole point of Halloween to dress up as something you ain’t?” 

*** 

Annie was still pretending to be mad at me over my last comment when we arrived at Avanti’s a few minutes later. Meiner was standing outside with some mutual friends, a couple of Trip-Ep freshmen. One of them was a tall, well-built African American girl named Alexys who spent a lot of time in Meiner’s company, though I wasn’t sure about the nature of their relationship. The other was a black haired girl with extremely pale skin, whose name I’d never caught. She and I hadn’t spent too much time together, but she was one of those girls who get really loud when they drink. 

The five of us shared a greeting. We normally would have gone inside to wait, but the ‘extra’ girl was smoking on the remains of a cigarette. That was the only reason why I could think why they were standing outside in the bitter cold instead of in the warm vestibule. Alexys leaned against the exterior wall, conspicuously upwind from her friend. Annie, Alexys and Meiner all didn’t smoke, which was one of the reasons I liked hanging out with them. “They should be calling us any time now,” she announced to me and Annie. 

Annie shoved her hands into her pockets; she never wore gloves. “And what name did you put our party under this time?” It’s tradition that whoever got to Avanti’s first puts in a different fake name. I usually pick television show characters, while Annie is fond of what she calls stripper names. 

Alexys snorted. “Ulysses. We made the mistake of letting Lenny pick.” 

Meiner shrugged. “What can I say? I was feeling a little James Joyce tonight.” 

The other girl rolled her eyes. “More like you were feeling a little gay tonight.” 

“Hey, hey,” I called warningly, giving the girl a look. “Watch it. I got a gay brother, you know.” 

Meiner, who had been privy to a couple Pike family stories, raised his eyebrows. “How many brothers do you have, Pike?” 

I waved that away. For the first time in my life, I wasn’t part of the Pike herd. I wasn’t just a number. At school, when people said Pike, I didn’t have to look around to see if any of my relatives were standing nearby. “A few,” I answered vaguely. 

Annie furrowed her brow. “You have a few sisters, too,” she pointed out. She’s heard the story of a few of Margo and Claire’s shenanigans from when they were younger. “How many kids are in your family, anyway? Five? Six?” 

I shifted by backpack from one shoulder to the other. Here is was, the moment when I stopped being Adam and started being a circus sideshow. “Eight.” 

“Eight?” Alexys repeated. I pretended to be fascinated by some graffiti on the side of the building. “Dude, I feel your pain. I got four younger brothers, and two of them are twins.” 

She seemed to actually mean that and not be making fun of me, so I went on. “We’ve got identical triplets,” I said. 

Annie looked at me as an employee called Ulysses over the intercom. “Really? Older or younger?” 

We were all gathering our stuff together and heading inside. “Neither,” I replied, knowing that didn’t make any sense, even though it was the truth. Meiner checked in at the counter and we sat down with our menus, even though everyone knew what they were going to order. All the girls were still looking at me, while Meiner was trying to park his monstrosity of a backpack—I think it was meant for hiking, not school—under the table. “I’ve got sisters who are thirteen, fifteen, seventeen and nineteen and a brother who’s sixteen.” 

Meiner finally managed to stow his bag. “And your other two brothers are your triplets,” he finished, piecing everything together. I nodded. “That’s actually pretty awesome.” 

The other girl, whose name I would later discover was Ashley, had been fairly quiet during all this. She looked at me now. “Did you guys ever play pranks on your friends and teachers and stuff?” 

I shrugged. “Jordan and I did that once, the second week of sixth grade. But our friends can all tell us apart at a glance, even though we’re technically identical, so they kinda ruined it and we got detention.” I didn’t mention that Jordan had been so frustrated by the experience that he got Dad to shave his head later that week and had worn his hair shorter than mine ever since. 

“What about your other brother?” Annie asked after we’d all ordered our pizza breads. 

I laughed. “Byron…well, he’s not the prank type. He’s more the ‘ponder the meaning of life’ type.” 

“One of those existential siblings?” Lenny asked. “I’m so sorry. I know how obnoxious they can be, because I _am_ the existential brother. And I know how big a pain in the ass I am.” 

We all cracked up at that, but after a moment, I grew serious. “He’s actually not that bad. For a long time, I thought he was a total weirdo. But when I realized that his angst was less ‘Why do we exist?’ and more ‘Why do I like guys?’ we started to get along better.” 

A member of the staff came by and took our orders. Annie turned to me. “So did any of you guys ever sleep with the same girl?” She thought about that for a moment. “I guess your gay brother probably wouldn’t really be up for that…” 

I smiled at the thought of Jordan and his bullshit virginity pledge. “Nope. Actually, they’re both virgins. And I don’t think we’ve ever even been interested in the same girl, anyway.” In reality, Jordan and I had actually made a deal when we were twelve and both had a crush on the same girl in Sea City: the first one of us to get a date with her was the victor and the other one would step down. I don’t think it had ever come up between the two of us again—and it hadn’t been important then, as the girl hadn’t been interested in either one of us. But Jordan had adapted that deal as applying to all three of us triplets. It’s why he’d never made a play for Haley before he found out Byron was gay—you don’t try to steal your brother’s girl. 

Alexys leaned on Annie. “Why do you ask? Is this like how a lot of guys dream of sleeping with twins at the same time, or sleeping with lesbians? You dream of Adam and his brothers, even though one of them is gay?” 

Annie snickered. “Nope. I was actually just wondering how many girls out there actually would consider sleeping with identical guys.” The waitress walked up with our drinks at that moment and Annie, in order to complete the embarrassment factor, snagged her attention. “Hey, can I ask you something?” The waitress, who looked like she was all of sixteen, nodded. Annie pointed at me. “He’s got two identical brothers. Would you ever consider a threesome with them or something?” The waitress went all wide eyed and Annie amended her statement. “Completely hypothetically, of course.” 

I banged my head down with a thump on my placemat. Meiner leaned across me. “Thanks for the drinks,” he told the waitress. “You can go now.” She practically ran off. Meiner leaned across the table to Annie, smiling. “You,” he said semi-seriously, pointing at her, “are not allowed to talk anymore.” 

*** 

We had pretty much finished eating when Annie jumped out of her seat and ran across the room. The rest of us were pulling out our accounting books, getting ready to settle in for a marathon study session. I watched her make her way to a booth by the door. The dude sitting there turned around and gave her a hug. 

Meiner and I looked at each other. He had his own history with Annie, although he wouldn’t explain any further. He said he wasn’t the type to kiss and tell, but Archer was pretty certain he was still a virgin. I know Meiner was thinking that this guy was another one of Annie’s conquests. Ashley and Alexys smirked at each other and I could tell they thought it too. 

But I’d learned to recognize that guy coming and going. I’d know him anywhere, just from the back of his head. “It’s her brother,” I announced. I wasn’t as afraid that would come after me now that I knew him a little better. First, Annie wasn’t likely to tell him stuff about her sex life. Second, he wasn’t likely to take her seriously if she did. Add to that the fact that, if Bradford wanted to beat down every guy who slept with his sister, he would have had to come after about half a dozen guys so far this year, and I’d relaxed some. 

Annie brought Bradford and his dinner companion over to greet us. Meiner and I were so busy greeting our president that I didn’t even notice who was with him. It wasn’t until I heard Ashley say something about “Madame President” that I realized that Petty Andrews was standing right beside me. 

She’d gotten a haircut since the last time I’d seen her, bringing her curls up above her shoulders. She emphasized this fact by tossing them on a regular basis. Petty finished greeting her ‘ladies’ and turned to us guys seated on the other side of the table. “Lenny,” she greeted Meiner cheerfully. (For a guy who calls himself ‘the ugliest damn bastard you’ll ever meet,’ he sure made friends with everyone really fast. I swear, half the campus knew his name.) 

I smiled at Petty and greeted her with a casual ‘hey,’ trying to look less eager than I felt. I could see by the look in her eyes that she remembered _something_ about me—just not my name. She pursed her lips. “I’m sorry,” she said after a moment, “but I can only remember your pledge name, and now that you’re no longer a pledge, I expect you’d rather I didn’t announce that to the whole restaurant.” 

Ashley started giggling and Alexys shared a look with Meiner. I resisted the urge to grimace. “I can assure you all,” Annie piped up, much louder than I would have liked, “that nothing about Adam is actually a tree twig.” 

I wanted to die right then and there, but since the earth didn’t open up and swallow me whole, I leaned across the table. I gave Annie my best death glare, the one that always used to send Claire scurrying to my mom, crying. It didn’t work in this case; she just laughed. 

Bradford looked at his sister, half in exasperation, half in amusement. “Annie, behave yourself,” he ordered. She simply smirked in reply.

Petty shook her head, although I wasn’t sure if it was at Annie or at me. “That’s right,” she continued after a moment’s pause. “Adam. Your last name…Bass, right?” 

As if this evening wasn’t embarrassing enough. “Pike,” I corrected. 

Petty shrugged. “I was close. They’re both fish.” 

*** 

Ryan and Petty went back to their table and not too much more happened that night. The girls did start calling me Bass, however. Apparently, that was even funnier to them than Tree Twig. 

But a few nights later, Colin and I were watching South Park—one of the few shows we agree upon—when the phone rang. It was sitting next to my elbow, but I had been nodding off when the phone went off, so it took me four rings before I answered. “Yello?” I drawled, half asleep. 

“Is this Adam Pike?” a very familiar voice asked. 

“Yup,” I replied casually. I thought it was this girl in my bio lab that I’d given my number to, and I didn’t want to seem too eager. 

There was a slight pause. “This is Petty Andrews, the Trip-Ep president.” 

I jumped off the bed and took the phone into the hallway. Why was Petty calling me? Obviously from the way she introduced herself, she didn’t realize that I thought about her a lot more than she thought about me. “How can I help you, Madame President?” 

She laughed. “First, you can cut the formal bull crap. I’m not calling on official business.” I had to smile at the newly relaxed tone she offered. “How well do you know Ashley Craig?” 

Ashley Craig? Who was that? Oh, yeah. Alexys’s friend from dinner the other night. “She’s a friend of a friend,” I replied. 

“Any way I could get you to befriend her too? Both Noah and Annie only have good things to say about you. Noah and I go way back, and he told me how you turned around your study habits. Annie tells everyone about how you dropped everything last week so that you could walk her safely back home when she found herself stranded off campus after dark.” Petty had let all that out in one breath. “She says you remind her of her brother—that you’re a natural born leader.” 

How do you resist someone after a compliment like that? Especially coming from someone as pretty and powerful as Petty. I’m pretty sure that was exactly why she said what she said; she knew there was only one way for me to reply. “Well, what do you want me to do?” I asked. 

“Just spend time with her. Study together, hang out as part of a group. All of the Trip Eps are pretty worried about her grades, and her big sisters and I don’t seem to be getting through to her. I asked Annie and Alexys to hang out with her, but if you and Lenny and your other friend—Andy?—could pal around with her some and invite her to more study sessions, I think that would go a long way.” 

“That doesn’t sound too hard,” I replied lightly. 

Petty’s voice dropped, both in pitch and in volume. “Look, I shouldn’t be telling you this, but…” She paused but decided to go for it. “Ashley’s grades are in the toilet. She’s not attending her classes very often. She got arrested earlier this month for brawling with another girl on campus. And on a much more personal level, her boyfriend….” Another pause, this one accompanied by a deep breath. “He’s gross and way beneath her.” 

I nodded even though I knew she couldn’t see it. None of that was too surprising. I thought back to our study session the other night. In addition to calling Meiner gay for no reason, she’d made cracks about how pointless her classes were and how she was learning nothing. Petty had been right about her boyfriend, too—he’d come to pick Ashley up and had been nasty and condescending to her. He was older, maybe in his late twenties, and dirty. He smelled like stale body odor and unwashed clothes and he had what Vanessa had once charmingly called “meth teeth.” (I trust I don’t need to give a better description than _that_.) 

When I didn’t reply out loud, Petty continued. “If you do this and Ashley manages to turn around, I’d consider it a great help. I’d be seriously in your debt.” 

I spent a moment imagining how I could get Petty to repay the debt before I shook myself. “No problem. You can always count on me.” 

“We’ll see about that, won’t we?” she retorted. 

We hung up shortly thereafter and I dialed up Annie’s number. She let the phone ring and almost go to the answering machine before she picked it up; that’s a habit of hers, even when she’s sitting right next to it. “Annie’s hair salon,” she answered. “How can we change your style?”

What the hell? “Ummm….” I replied. 

Annie giggled. “Adam, is that you? I was expecting a phone call from TreyAnne. She wants me to dye her hair something outrageous tonight.” I’d met TreyAnne. Her hair was already outrageous—half shaved off and bleached almost to white. I wasn’t sure what type of color she’d be picking, but I was betting it wasn’t something found in nature. 

“Yeah, it’s me,” I answered, feeling a little stupid at my phrasing. Anyone who spoke would say ‘it’s me.’ “I was hoping you had a phone number for me. Remember that girl Ashley from the other night?” 

Annie paused and I pictured her wrinkling her nose like a bunny. “Why do you want _her_ number? She’s got that skeezy boyfriend, remember? Even if she did want to cheat on him, no telling what you could pick up from her. Not to mention the fact that if he found out, her BF would probably beat you to a pulp with a blunt weapon.” 

I made a face of my own. She’d put a very vivid image in my head. “Not everything is about sex, Annie.” 

“No, just the best things,” she quipped. I groaned. “I have her number and I can give it to you. I just really, really want to know why you want it.” 

“I just thought I’d ask her if she wants to study with me for our next Intro to Business test. I’m pretty sure she’s in my class.” 

“Yeah, right,” Annie snorted. “You, who are barely passing Intro to Business, want to study with a girl who admitted she’s retained absolutely no information from any of her classes?” She paused and then realized what was going on. “Oh, now I get it. You got sucked into Petty’s plan to try to turn Ashley into a super-sister, didn’t you? I know why Alexys and I gave in to Petty, but what kind of leverage does she have over you?” 

I had my room key hanging on a curly chain coming off my belt; I looped my fingers through the curls over and over again. “Anything to help out a sister,” I said vaguely. 

There was a pause and then Annie started giggling. “Oh, my God,” she said, sounding exactly like Claire when she’s just caught ahold of a piece of information she’s going to use to annoy you for the rest of your life. “I know what’s going on. You like Petty, don’t you?” 

I sputtered a little bit. “What are you talking about?” 

Annie made a clucking sound. It suddenly occurred to me that Annie, like Claire, was the baby of her family, but because she just had the one brother, she’d made a lifetime of wringing the full value out of every little morsel of blackmail and teasing information she found. I knew that even if I got her to drop the issue now, it was going to come back up again at a most inopportune time later. “Adam and Petty, sitting in a tree,” she sang. 

I laughed. “How old are you, six?” I figured the best way to handle the situation was to neither admit it or deny it. Maybe she’d get distracted. 

It worked, a little. “Seven, actually.” There was a brief pause and she shifted the phone from one ear to the other, making a bunch of static. “Look, I’ll help you out with Ashley’s number so that you can get in with Petty. But you should know that the chances of you ever getting her into bed are minimal. My brother’s been trying for a couple years now.” 

I didn’t acknowledge that piece of information. I didn’t even necessarily _need_ to sleep with Petty. Just spend some more time with her. “Just give me that number,” I demanded. 

Annie recited a four-digit on-campus extension. “I hope that helps,” she said, a smirk evident in her tone. “You need to get a few more ladies, Adam. Maybe the Petty thing won’t work out, but Ashley might have some prostitute friends for you.” 

“Hanging up on you now. Please, take it personally.” 

I could hear her laughing as I did indeed hang up on her. It was pretty clear that Annie wouldn’t have spent any time with Ashley if Petty hadn’t asked her. I was beginning to wonder just how unpleasant she actually was. 

*** 

I didn’t reach Ashley that evening; I left a message with her roommate for her to call me back. When she hadn’t replied in about thirty-six hours, I called again. This time, she actually answered. I had to remind her who I was; even the suggestion of ‘Bass’ and ‘Tree Twig’ didn’t spark her memory. I searched my own memory, trying to think of how I might remind her. “I’m the triplet whose brothers Annie wanted to have a threesome with?” I finally said ruefully. 

“Oh, yeah,” she said. “You’re friends with Annie and Alexys? Those two are such suck ups. You walk into a room with them and all the air disappears. What a pair of kiss-asses.” I didn’t say a word; I was surprised to find that Ashley’s opinion of Annie was as low as Annie’s opinion was of her. “And what’s with that other guy, Lenny? What an ugly motherfucker. How does he always have a flock of girls hanging around him?” 

Now I really had to bite my tongue. Meiner was the nicest and smartest guy I knew. He definitely wasn’t traditionally attractive, but he made up for that with charisma and charm. He had a memory, too—if you told him you were worried about something, he’d ask you about it next time he saw you, even if it was a couple weeks later. “So I’m guessing,” I said to Ashley, trying really hard not to jump down her throat, “That you’re not hanging out with them by choice?” 

“Are you kidding me?” she replied incredulously. “Normally, I wouldn’t be seen in public with them. I only went to that dumbass study session because Alexys paid me.” 

“She _paid_ you?” I repeated, agog. This had me wondering about both Ashley _and_ Alexys. 

“Yup. And it wasn’t enough for me to ever hang out with them again.” Ashley yawned loudly. “You, on the other hand, I don’t know. You’re friends with that guy Archer, aren’t you? I heard he has some connections. He knows where to get the stuff, if you know what I mean.” 

I did know exactly what she meant. A lot of guys on campus could get you some pot if you were interested, but Archer had some friends who had some friends that could get you harder stuff—stuff that could really mess you up. I didn’t have a problem with a little marijuana a couple times a year but I’d never wanted to try coke, heroin or anything else. “Yeah, he sure does,” I said. I figured that if she was willing to hang out with us a little, I’d just tell him not to hook her up. Archer was kind of unpredictable and you just never knew what to expect out of him next, but he’d probably do that for me, if I asked him and he was sober. 

“So what are you calling me for anyway?” Ashley was not the type to beat around the bush.” 

I thought up a lie and blurted it out before I had time to think it through. “Are you going to the safe-sex party?” 

“Yeah, I am, but I don’t know why you’re asking. You know I have a boyfriend.” 

How could I possibly forget that? “Yeah, but I wasn’t looking for a date. I actually have a date.” Not true, but I was hoping to ask that girl from my bio class. “What I need is help with my costume. I’m thinking of going as a used condom, but I’m stuck on how to do that. I’m going to need all the help I can get.” 

She sighed. “Yah, you probably are. Gross.” I waited a minute to see whether she was going to actually answer my proposition. “I wasn’t going to do the costume thing. This isn’t elementary school.” 

I stifled a nasty comment. “I’m pretty sure that dressing as a used condom is really frowned upon in elementary school.” Ashley didn’t reply. “Look, Archer is coming over to get dressed with me.” Again, not true, but I could make it happen. “We’re going to have some rum and coke and invite a few people for a pre-party. If you want to come join us, I’ve actually got a perfect costume idea for you.” 

Who knew I could tell so many lies in one conversation? Ashley took a deep breath and let it out in a pained sigh. I was waiting for her to decline. “Who’s going to be at this ‘pre-party?” she asked instead. “I’m all for free drinks, but I’m picky about who I hang out with.” 

“I’m not sure yet. You can bring a friend or two, if you want. Archer will be there, and probably Lenny, too.” Like Ashley, Meiner was all about free liquor. It was the only complaint I had about the dude—he somehow managed to weasel his way out of paying for alcohol every time. 

“Okay, okay,” she said, and I was pretty sure the earlier comment about Archer and his secret stash told me why she was accepting. “Where do you live and when should I be there?” 

I gave her the details and hung up. I now had a whole bunch of planning to do so I didn’t look like a complete idiot and liar. I needed to ask Archer and Meiner to come get dressed in my room and help me with my costume. I needed to find some rum. And (hardest of all) I needed to come up with a costume idea for Ashley. 

The things I do for the sake of a hopeless crush. 

*** 

Most of the planning for my impromptu shindig turned out to be easier than I expected. Both Meiner and Archer agreed to come over, and Archer said he’d bring the bottle of rum. Meiner even said he knew how to make my condom costume work and would bring the “ingredients” with him. Although his phrasing scared me, I was just grateful for the help. 

I invited both Colin and Caitlin to hang out with us, expecting Colin to get upset. Not only did he not get frustrated with me for putting together a party without asking, he actually seemed excited about it. Caitlin came through for me once again by getting excited, too—about Ashley’s costume. “You sure you two don’t want to actually come to the Trip-Ep party with me?” I’d asked after she finished rambling about her idea. 

Colin looked at Caitlin and then shook his head. “Nope. This is okay because I’ve met most of your friends. There’s only so much alcohol you can get away with in the dorms, and I have the right to kick people out if I don’t like them.” 

I was cleaning once again while the two of them were (supposedly) studying. I’d already done most of my homework and was mostly cleaning out of nerves rather than actual need. I stopped dusting in my tracks and gave Colin a cockeyed glance. “You sure you want to be a pharmacist?” I asked him. “You’d make such a great tyrannical dictator instead.” 

Caitlin chuckled gently and kissed Colin’s forehead. “I’m gonna go get some dinner,” she said softly, “and gather up some supplies for this girl’s costume. I’ll be back in a little while, just before everything starts.” She hopped off the bed, leaving her books behind. 

Colin put up both his and Caitlin’s books in a pile under his bed. “So…” he said. I looked up from my desk, where I was dusting the computer monitor. “Is everyone going to be getting changed here, or will they all come in costume?” 

I shrugged. “I don’t know. I actually don’t even know how anyone is dressing, other than me.” 

We didn’t have long to wait to find out in a few cases. I was alone in the room, clearing everything off my desk. I’d bought a bunch of cups and a couple bags of chips and, of course, a couple two liters of cola. Archer came up behind me and leaned over my shoulder. “Ruuuuuuuuum!” he half sang, half shouted as he thumped the bottle down. 

I turned around and looked at him. He was dressed up as a stereotypical pimp—purple fake fur jacket, giant matching hat, and tons of gold chains. I looked at him and shook my head. “How in the hell is this a safe-sex costume?” I asked him. 

Archer laughed. “Hey, it’s the hookers having all the trashy sex, not the pimps,” he told me. I looked over at him, not saying a word and trying not to make an expression. Sometimes, I do not understand how the man’s mind works. 

Archer watched me watching him, and I could see I was irritating him slightly. I suddenly understood why Byron does this to Haley all the time—it’s completely maddening to the other person. I let Archer squirm for a moment before I grabbed the bottle of rum and opened it. He visibly relaxed. “You sure your roomie’s okay with this little brouhaha we’re throwing here tonight?” he asked me. 

“Not only is he okay with it,” I told Archer as I poured each of us a measure of rum, “he’s actually going to hang out with us.” Archer raised his eyebrow and looked around the room. “He’s in the bathroom right now, but he’ll be right back.” 

His pretended to be shocked. “Mr. Snooze is going to drink with us?” he asked. 

I nodded. “Colin’s actually not that bad,” I told him. “He’s not as straight-edged as he seems.” 

Archer grunted. “I’ll believe that when I see it.” 

Colin came back before Archer could say more and greeted him with a little wave. “Rum and Coke, Colin?” I asked. 

He nodded. “Pour one for Caitlin, too. I just got a text from her and she’s on her way.” 

Archer made a face and I poured two more drinks before I explained. “Colin’s girlfriend. She’s going to help Ashley get dressed tonight.” 

Andy drained his drink in one chug. “What’s with this sudden Ashley kick you’re on? She’s not your usual type.” 

Colin accepted his drink and took a sip. “I was kind of wondering that myself,” he added. Colin hadn’t met Ashley, but I had thrown her name around a lot recently. 

I grimaced. “Let’s just say—and don’t either one of you breathe a word of this to anyone—that she’s kind of a project I’m working on.” 

I was saved from further explanation by Meiner and Caitlin, who arrived together. Meiner was laden down with a huge bag, but he bumped Caitlin’s shoulder as they walked through the door. Caitlin was smiling, so I guess I’d found someone else who could get through to her. “Hey,” Meiner called to the assembled group. “Does this lovely lady belong to someone? If not, watch out. I am going to snap her up.” 

Colin smiled. “Hey, now,” he joked with Meiner. “Don’t you get enough girls? This one’s mine.” He handed Caitlin her drink and she grinned some more. 

Meiner accepted a drink from me also. “Yeah, I got me a harem,” he announced to the assembled group. I could tell he’d already started drinking and I wondered, vaguely, whom he’d bummed the booze from. “Have you noticed,” he asked Archer as he set the big bag he was carrying down and hopped up onto Colin’s desk next to it, “that our whole crew we hang out with has something in common? Andy, Adam, Annie, Alexys and now this Ashley. I’m gonna start calling you all my A-holes.” 

I sat down backwards in my desk chair. “I thought we were Lenny and the Jets?” I said. 

Meiner waved that away. “That was last week,” he told me. “Try to keep up.” 

Archer snatched the bag out from behind Meiner’s ass. “What do you have in here?” he asked before Meiner could even respond. He started pulling out items and narrating for Colin and Caitlin, who couldn’t see from their seat on Colin’s bed. “Trash bags…a whisk…pudding mix…a cheap plastic sand pail…a half-gallon of milk…a mixing bowl…packing tape.” He stopped pulling items out of the sack and stared at Lenny. “What the fuck, Meiner? Either you’re just planning on getting _really_ hungry for pudding or that is the world’s most warped costume.” 

Meiner laughed. “It’s two costumes. I’m going as a ‘bottle of lube.’ Water based, not oil based, of course. The bucket’s the lid to the costume and I’m going to put on a trash bag and fill it with other trash bags to simulate the liquid. The pudding and a couple more trash bags are for Adam’s condom costume.” 

“Vanilla pudding?” I asked him. Archer handed me the box and I looked it over. It was normal vanilla pudding and I wasn’t sure how it was supposed to help in any way. 

“You wanted to be a used condom,” Meiner pointed out. “You have to be sure to tell it’s used. We’re going to tape two bags together with the pudding in between them and fashion your costume out of that.” 

Of course, this was both brilliant and utterly disgusting. Archer started laughing hysterically and the rest of us quickly joined in. 

This is where we were when Ashley showed up. She stood in the doorway, watching us disdainfully for a moment. There were dark circles under both of her eyes, and her left eye almost looked like it was bruised. Her hair was greasy and unwashed and she wore no makeup. I went from being slightly irritated at her expression to actual concern when I realized that something had to be going on with her. “Hey, Ashley,” I called, and she acknowledged me with a nod. “C’mon in. There’s some rum and Coke and chips over here. You’re just in time to help Lenny make some pudding-jizz.” 

Ashley didn’t ask what that meant; she just poured a large amount of rum into a cup and added a tiny dash of Cola. She took the drink over to my bed, which was unoccupied, and had a seat. I looked at Meiner, who shrugged, and Archer, who seemed completely unconcerned. Meiner spoke in a low voice. “I got the pudding,” he said, “You go deal with…that.” 

I took my drink and a bag of chips over to the other side of the room. I held the bag out silently to Caitlin and Colin, who were sitting quietly on his bed. They both turned down the offer and I took the bag to my bed, where Ashley was sitting at the foot of the bed, completely focused on her drink. I sat at the head of the bed, back against my pillow, looking at her. “Dorito?” I asked her. She shook her head. “Everything okay?” 

She looked out at me from behind some greasy bangs. “Everything’s fine,” she answered in a voice that both conveyed contempt for me and the question and told me she was lying. 

I sighed. I wasn’t going to get anywhere with this line of questioning, obviously. “Have you met my roommate Colin and his girlfriend Caitlin?” I asked, trying again. Colin waved at Ashley and Caitlin, who always scrutinized people closely before forming an opinion of them, smiled gently. “Caitlin’s got a costume for you.” 

Caitlin’s extremely soft-spoken most of the time, but she seemed to know it was time to speak up. “I have this hugely oversized smock-like shirt, and you can stuff a pillow up underneath it and look pregnant. Then, if you want to be disgusting like your friends, you can put on some smeared makeup and a ring of white powder around your nose and be a pregnant crack whore.” 

Ashley just looked at her for a minute. On the other side of the room, Meiner and Archer were apparently making a mess with the pudding mix. “You’re doing it wrong!” Archer declared. 

“It’s a whisk. You just spin it around and around,” Meiner replied. “There’s no such thing as doing it wrong!” 

It reminded me so dramatically of an argument Byron and Jordan had gotten into while we were baking cookies when we were about nine that that I stopped in my tracks for a moment, feeling a wave of homesickness. Instead of letting it consume me, I rolled my eyes at the two of them and then turned back to the business at hand. “What do you think about the costume?” I asked Ashley. 

She turned to me darkly. “That’s the dumbest idea I ever heard,” she said. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Caitlin’s face fall. I wanted to come to her defense, because it wasn’t a stupid costume—Ashley would have fit right in with her sisters in that outfit. 

But how was I supposed to make friends with Ashley if I chewed her a new hole over being rude to my friends? I flashed a flustered look at Caitlin, who lowered her head and refused to meet my gaze. I turned to Ashley, biting back a few nasty retorts. “Well, do you have a better idea for a costume?” I asked, using my diplomatic ‘Byron voice.’ “You don’t want to be the only one not in costume, do you?” 

Ashley tossed her head. “Fuck if I care,” she declared. “I’m only going to stick around long enough to get wasted. I’ve got better things to do with my Saturday night.” 

I know hindsight is 20/20 and all that, but I’ll tell you what I _should_ have done then—and that’s politely tell her to leave. But I thought about Petty and what she’d asked of me. It was beginning to seem like a taller order than I’d originally thought. I should have stood up for Caitlin, who, even if I couldn’t really call her my friend, had always treated everyone a lot nicer than Ashley had just behaved. 

But Archer, who hadn’t heard any of that exchange, called me over. “Pike, get your ass over here and let’s make you a condom! We need to make the head and arm holes before we can start taping the bags together.” 

Instead of doing the right thing, I did the easy thing. “Hey, Caitlin, why don’t you help me with this, too? It was your idea, after all—and it was a really good one.” 

She shook her head, still not raising it. Colin put put his arm around her and I walked by them and handed them the Doritos bag. “Let’s talk later,” I told Colin. He nodded, not looking happy but understanding anyway. I left Ashley on the bed as Archer and Meiner attempted to fashion a used condom out of thin air and pudding. Ashley got up twice while this was happening. The first time, she refilled her glass; the second, she took the entire forgotten bottle of rum with her. 

Colin said goodbyes for him and Caitlin—they were heading out for a while. Archer and Meiner both spoke cheerfully to them, and I stepped away from the tape job they were doing on the trash bags and followed the two of them out into the hallway, closing the door behind me. “I’m so sorry,” I said to them. 

Colin shook his head. “I appreciate the apology, but it’s not really your fault. I just don’t get why you’re so keen to hang out with this girl.” 

I made a lemon face. “At this point, neither do I.” 

Caitlin looked up at me for the first time since I didn’t step to her defense, and I impulsively gave her a hug. She actually smiled at me and returned it. “You’re going to want to watch out with her,” she said in a kind voice. “That’s the type of girl who will get you in really big trouble.” 

She was right, of course. Thanks, Caitlin,” I said. “And you too, Colin. I’m glad to know who my real friends are.” 

*** 

By the time we got to the Trip-Ep house, Ashley had finished off three-fourth of the bottle of rum all on her own and was completely, inelegantly wasted. Annie met the four of us just inside of the door and observed us silently for a moment. Ashley stumbled off without so much as a word, and Annie watched her go. I waited for her to comment on my (wasted) efforts with Ashley, but instead, she wrapped her white-draped arms around my waist. “Didn’t you say you were bringing a date?” she asked me with a smirk. 

I dragged her into a super-tight hug, almost as a joke. “Yes, I did say that, but it turns out I was just too sexy for her.” Actually, the girl had told me she’d stop by if her other plans for the evening didn’t work out, but I’ve been blown off by girls enough times to know a dismissal when I hear it. 

Meiner wrapped his arm around us both and gave me a kiss on the cheek. “I feel like making out,” he said in my ear. 

“Not with me,” I told him as I pushed him off me. Annie laughed hysterically as she managed to get loose from both me and Meiner. 

Meiner grinned and walked off through the crowd. “Of course not, brother,” he shouted back to me. “I gotta go find my girl.” 

Annie was still laughing. “If he’s looking for Alexys, I don’t think she’s here yet.” 

I had been scanning the room, looking for Ashley again, but I turned back to Annie at that moment. “Are the two of them together?” I asked in surprise. 

Annie never got to answer, because Petty came up at that moment. Like everyone else, she was dressed up, wearing a body suit covered in what appeared to be Tic-Tacs. On the front were the words ‘Did you remember to take your birth control?’ The whole thing was absolutely ludicrous and I wanted to laugh, but the expression on Petty’s face stopped me. “Adam, may I have a word with you?” she asked. 

I saw Annie’s eyebrow go up and I know she wanted to hear everything Petty wanted to say to me. I threw a look at Archer and he grabbed Annie by the wrist. “Bradford, come dance with me,” he said as he dragged her out of the line of hearing. 

“How can I help you?” I asked Petty as Archer and Annie disappeared from sight. 

Petty gave me a very serious look. “What is the deal with Ashley?” she asked. 

I cringed. “What do you mean?” I replied, even though I knew the answer to that. 

“She’s as drunk as a skunk.” Petty got straight to the point. “I spoke to her a moment ago, and she said she was just at your place.” The music was pretty loud coming from the other room, but she lowered her voice a bit. I leaned in closer to hear her better. “This is pretty much the opposite of what I was hoping you’d accomplish by spending time with her.” 

“Look,” I said, matching her volume and tone of voice. “Ashley’s not an easy girl to get to know or to work with. I thought that if I could get her to spend some time with me and my friends, I’d be able to get in with her and then I could be a positive influence on her _later_.” 

“And how’s that working for you?” Petty asked. I shrugged. “Look, Adam,” she said in a slightly gentler voice, “I trusted that you could be a leader here. Anyone can get a friend to do what they want. It takes a real leader to get an unwilling person to follow.” 

I looked away, trying to find a good answer. It hurt a little to hear her say that. I’d used some of my best tricks on Ashley. Petty had only asked me to help with this little ‘project’ of hers a very short time before, and I’d done the best I could with what I had. It’s not like I’d paid Ashley or kidnapped her or anything. 

When I didn’t reply, Petty kept talking. “I know you were trying. Hard.” I finally looked back at her. “I also know you haven’t been working on her for too long, so if you kept at it for a while, you might actually see success.” She put a hand on my shoulder and I felt my whole arm turn warm at the touch. “But there’s two more things you should know about leaders. First is that they ask for help when they need it; they learn how to delegate. Second, they admit when they’re in over their heads.” 

I squirmed a moment and she removed her hand from my shoulder. “I admit that I haven’t been that successful in turning Ashley around,” I said, still in a low voice. “But none of my friends really like her. She alienates them, even those who were really trying. We tried to get her to wear a costume, and I was hoping to get to talk to her, but she just wanted to drink.” 

Petty sighed. “I kinda thought as much. She’s going to be tougher than I thought.” She turned and watched something out of the corner of her eye. I saw what she was seeing as well. Ashley was slumped in the corner of a couch, not looking at anyone, drinking once again. She looked lost and alone. 

I shook my head and Petty turned back to me. “As for you, Adam Pike,” she said, poking me in the shoulder blade the way she had done the first time we met. “I’ve got your number. You want everyone to think you’re something more than you are—you’re trying to fool us all. You’re the biggest phony in this whole place, and there are a _lot_ of phonies here.” 

Thank goodness that place was full of people and loud as can be; no one else heard a word of that. I had to admit that at that moment, every word she said felt true. And every emotion I was feeling was apparently etched on my face. “That’s okay, though,” Petty continued. “I guess I’ll put up with you anyway. I’ve made a decision—I’m going to help you try to become everything you want everyone to believe you are.” She squeezed my shoulder and then started to walk away. “I’m going to make _you_ my project now,” she called over her shoulder as she walked away. 

For some reason, that scared me. A lot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As I said to some dear friends the other day (okay, at this point it was more like a couple months ago), writing Adam is always super tough for me: “I’m having trouble getting in touch with my inner frat boy…mostly because I don’t think I have an inner frat boy.”  
> That said, I want to point out that I have never been to any of these colleges my Pike triplets attend and my version of them is completely fictionalized; I make up fraternities (actually, steal made up ones from other sources, right, Erin, aka Triple Epsilon?) and use the names of my own college hangouts (La Bamba’s, Avanti’s and I’m pretty sure Jordan will be hanging out at One World) for their college hangouts. I also lay no claim to dorm layouts, classes needed for majors and stuff like that. I’ll research, but not that thoroughly. ;)  
> Coming soon (like, right now) in _A Year Apart_ : November rolls around and we find out just who’s the center of high school gossip now.


End file.
